Wu Han, a native of Yiwu, Zhejiang, was a renowned historian, best known for his biography Zhu Yuanzhang. He was a student of Hu Shi but refused to follow Hu Shi to Taiwan. Hu Shi lamented loudly, “Wu Han is a pity—he has taken the wrong road.” Wu reportedly dismissed this and publicly said his former teacher’s brain had “filled with water.”

Yet barely twenty years later, Wu Han and his wife both died tragic deaths; before his death, even his hair was pulled out. Ten years after that, his beloved adopted daughter Wu Xiaoyan also committed suicide. Wu Han’s tragic fate was, in many ways, a concentrated manifestation of the long-term consequences of the collective moral frailty of Chinese intellectuals.

At age twenty, Wu wrote The Economic Conditions of the Western Han, an inspirational classic in academic circles. From 1949 onward, he served as Vice Mayor of Beijing. As the saying goes, “He who excels in study becomes an official.” Wu entered government service. During the Rectification and Anti-Rightist Campaigns, he was an active Anti-Rightist hero, an eager pioneer. He lost the backbone of a scholar and became an echo of politics. In the end, he ruined both his reputation and his family, leaving behind the stigma of betraying his teacher, forsaking his intellectual heritage, flattering power, and distorting history.

Mao once had a long conversation with Wu Han, asking him to portray Zhu Yuanzhang more favorably, since Mao and Zhu were both peasant rebel leaders. In 1965, Mao instructed Jiang Qing to find someone in Shanghai to write articles criticizing Wu Han’s play Hai Rui Dismissed from Office, which became the prelude to the Cultural Revolution. Wu Han and his family were subsequently persecuted; three members of his family died during the Cultural Revolution.

More than forty years after Mao’s death, whenever he thought of Wu Han, he often felt guilt. Recently, he wished to see Wu Han in person to apologize, hoping to gain Wu’s forgiveness and perhaps earn some favor when judged by the Jade Emperor.

Mao’s lingering spirit met Wu Han.

Mao began bluntly: “The Cultural Revolution caused you suffering. You were originally innocent. I launched it and used you as the breakthrough point—it was a political necessity for me. It destroyed your family. Fifty years have passed; I have come to apologize. When you wrote Zhu Yuanzhang, you followed my guidance and aligned with my wishes. It helped elevate my image greatly. For that, I thank you.”

Wu replied: “Do you remember November 1948? I visited you in Xibaipo. You treated me to a dog-meat meal—we ate heartily. Jiang Qing was there. I spoke with you about history and about my biography of Zhu Yuanzhang. Jiang Qing didn’t understand history but liked to interrupt. I spoke bluntly and said she was wrong; perhaps I offended her. She was petty and bore a grudge.

“You asked me to portray Zhu Yuanzhang more favorably. I understood your meaning—you and he were both peasant rebel leaders, and you admired him. A better portrayal would enhance your own image. So I removed material about Zhu’s literary inquisitions. Later, you read it and were pleased.”

Mao said: “I thought your Zhu Yuanzhang was well written. In my pleasure I inscribed a dedication for you and personally presented you with my Selected Works.”

Wu responded: “Thank you for your patronage. After Beijing was liberated, you appointed me Vice Mayor.”

Mao continued: “In the 1950s you were very obedient to me. Your opinions on Beijing’s construction also aligned with mine.”

Wu said: “At the time I knew you disliked the city walls, so I advocated demolishing them and stood opposed to Liang Sicheng. As a historian, my words carried weight. In the end, nearly all of Beijing’s city walls were torn down. I also suggested transforming the Forbidden City, partly to align with your wishes, though that plan was never carried out.”

Mao said: “In 1957, during the Anti-Rightist Campaign, you were very active—very much in line with my intentions.”

Wu replied: “I understood that the Anti-Rightist movement was your deployment. I had to follow closely. I presided over the denunciations of Chu Anping and Luo Longji. For my contributions I was publicly admitted into the Party that same year.”

Mao: “In 1959, I asked you to write about Hai Rui, to criticize the exaggeration and false reporting among cadres, and to promote Hai Rui’s spirit of uprightness and bold remonstrance. You followed my instruction.”

Wu said: “I closely followed your directives and wrote Hai Rui Scolds the Emperor, On Hai Rui, and Hai Rui Dismissed from Office. You praised my articles highly and personally inscribed and presented me your Selected Works. But in 1965 you suddenly reversed yourself—it was like a bolt from the blue. Completely unexpected. You went back on your word. No one anticipated it—not even Zhou Enlai understood.”

Mao said: “I began by criticizing you to open a breakthrough. Then I moved against Peng Zhen, broke up the Beijing Municipal Committee, and launched the Cultural Revolution. It was part of my overall deployment. You were the first to bear the brunt—unlucky. I did not even inform Zhou Enlai; I secretly instructed Jiang Qing. By then, you were no longer as aligned with me as before 1960. You formed the ‘Three-Family Village’ with Deng Tuo and Liao Mosha, writing essays that criticized the Great Leap Forward. The thrust of your thinking was directed at me. From that point on, your misfortune began.”

Wu answered: “We wrote essays reflecting on the Great Leap Forward, subtly criticizing its absurdities. We did not directly attack you. But you were very sensitive.”

Mao asked: “When the Cultural Revolution began, your whole family suffered, didn’t they?”

Wu replied: “From the criticism of ‘Three-Family Village,’ our family could no longer withstand it. Our two children were adopted—a twelve-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy. Even in primary school they were made to criticize ‘Three-Family Village.’ Ordered by teachers to write denunciations, they didn’t know how. My wife and I drafted them; the children copied and turned them in. Red Guards climbed over our walls, broke down our doors, and plastered the courtyard with big-character posters reading ‘Smash to Pieces!’ and ‘Hang Him!’

“Soon I was sent to a labor reform camp. Old injuries had not healed before new ones were added. In 1968 my wife was also sent to labor reform and became paralyzed in both legs. Only the two children were left at home to fend for themselves.”

Mao said softly: “Two young children—that is pitiful.”

Wu continued: “My wife could not endure prison. In 1969 she died there. Before dying she made two final requests: a bowl of thin rice porridge and to see me once. Neither was granted. Half a year later, I also died in prison. My hair had been pulled out; I bled heavily. My ashes are missing.”

Mao said: “You both died miserably. Many were the same.”

Wu continued: “My adopted daughter Wu Xiaoyan became labeled a ‘black gang’ child. She endured harsh living conditions and psychological torment. In 1973 she developed schizophrenia, was detained by police, subjected to inhuman treatment. Her illness worsened; she was physically and mentally broken. With no way out, she committed suicide in a psychiatric hospital in 1975.”

Mao said: “So your family was destroyed. It is tragic. Looking back, what lesson did you learn?”

Wu replied: “It is a long story. At the root lies my wife, Yuan Zhen, three years older than I. During the War of Resistance, we studied at Tsinghua University in Yunnan. She fell ill; I cared for her; affection grew. At that time I was Hu Shi’s student and benefited from his guidance. Yuan Zhen was a student of Dong Biwu and had joined the Party early. Her influence on me surpassed Hu Shi’s and led me onto the Communist path. We married in Yunnan in 1939. If not for her, I might have followed Hu Shi’s path, and my entire life would have been different.”

Mao said: “I remember in Xibaipo asking you to persuade Hu Shi to remain at Peking University.”

Wu replied: “At the end of 1948 I met Hu Shi in Beijing. Following your instruction, I tried to persuade him to stay. He refused and instead said I had chosen the wrong road—that it was a pity. We parted unhappily and never met again.”

Mao asked: “Later you were rehabilitated, weren’t you?”

Wu answered: “In 1979 I was rehabilitated; my Party membership and reputation were restored. In 1984 Tsinghua University even built a ‘Han Pavilion’ and erected a statue of me, with an inscription by Deng Xiaoping.”

Mao asked: “Do you have any regrets?”

Wu replied: “I regret not living until after your death, so I could emerge from prison like Zhou Yang and apologize to Hu Feng. I owe Chu Anping and Luo Longji a debt; I should have repented and apologized to them. I never had the chance to see my teacher Hu Shi again and confess my remorse.

“I followed you all my life and ended like this. I blame myself for choosing the wrong path. You were a man of towering ambition, determined to achieve your hegemony. You could discard anyone at will—me included. No one who followed you ended well. I am summarizing the lessons of my life for future generations.”

Mao said evasively: “I too am repenting, continuing self-reflection, seeking the Jade Emperor’s forgiveness. You are magnanimous, and I thank you. As a historian, leave some historical lessons for posterity.”

Wu concluded: “My life can be summed up in one word: retribution. It was self-inflicted. The vast majority within the Party share the same fate—it is the retribution of history, of Heaven. To follow a party that ignores human nature and runs counter to the tide of history and civilization is to commit enormous crimes against the people, the nation, and history. A miserable end is deserved.

“If there is any lesson for future generations, it is this: so-called Marxist-Leninist communism is the most evil demon of human civilization—and you, Mao Zedong, are the culmination of all demons ancient and modern.”

Having spoken, Wu departed in anger.

NEXT: 48. Feng Xuefeng (1903–1976)